“Vampire eyeballs!” said Dozy. “Or eyeball vampires!”

Mumbles said nothing. He was too busy running away.

• • •

Meanwhile, in the Johnson house, Nurd and Wormwood were about to have problems of their own.

The window was now open, but so far the elf on the windowsill had not moved. Wormwood poked his head through the gap and peered down.

“Well, look at that,” he said.

“Look at what?” said Nurd.

He was still keeping a close eye on the elf. It was making him nervous.

“Elves,” said Wormwood. “Lots of ’em. It’s a pyramid of elves.”

Nurd climbed from his bunk and went to the window. He stuck his head out. Wormwood was right: there was a pyramid of elves under the window, each layer supporting the next until the topmost elf would be on the same level as the windowsill. But who would bother to build a pyramid of elves? Nurd twisted his head and tried to see if there was any sign of activity on the roof, but there was none.

“That’s quite unusual,” he said.

Wormwood poked the elf on the windowsill.

“You know what else is unusual?” he said.

“What?”

“This elf. It’s made of wood, but it feels warm.”

Wormwood leaned back so that Nurd could test it for himself. Nurd reached out a clawed finger and jabbed at the elf’s nose.

“Now that you come to mention it—” he said, just as the elf’s mouth opened and bit Nurd’s finger. Nurd lifted his hand up to examine it more closely. The elf remained dangling from it.

“Er, Wormwood?” said Nurd.

Wormwood had poked his head out of the window again, and was admiring the elves.

“Aren’t they pretty?” he said.

“Wormwood, if you have a moment—”

Wormwood waved a stubby hand at the elf pyramid. “Hello, elves!”

All of the elves grinned at Wormwood. One or two even waved back.

Wormwood scratched his chin. He hadn’t expected that.

“You know,” he said, quickly pulling his head back in and turning to Nurd, “I could be wrong, but those elves may be alive.”

Nurd coughed and showed Wormwood his finger, now with added elf. He shook his hand in the hope of dislodging the elf, but the elf wasn’t going anywhere. The bell on the end of its hat tinkled.

“Does it hurt?” asked Wormwood.

“A bit.”

“Would you like me to try to get it off?”

“That would be nice.”

Wormwood grabbed the elf by the legs and gave an experimental tug.

“It’s holding on very tight.”

“I know that, Wormwood. It is my finger that is involved.”

Wormwood pulled harder.

“Ow!” said Nurd. “Stop! That’s no good.”

“Try knocking it against the wall.”

Nurd did. On the third attempt, the elf released its grip on Nurd’s finger and fell to the floor, where it stumbled about holding its head and looking dazed. Nurd examined his finger. There was a ring of small teeth marks around the tip.

“Nasty,” said Wormwood.

Nurd picked up the elf by one leg and stared at it. The elf struggled a bit, and tried to twist its body in order to bite Nurd again.